


Two Broken Men

by Doctor_Discord



Series: Trauma AU [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Blood, Grooming, Insanity, Magic, Prophetic Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24233677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: The Host and Eric spend some time together in the aftermath.
Relationships: Markiplier/Eric Derekson, The Host/Dr. Iplier
Series: Trauma AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739428
Comments: 7
Kudos: 84





	Two Broken Men

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a drawing on Tumblr uwu  
> https://thomothysdoodles.tumblr.com/post/190532563444/would-you-consider-drawing-a-madhost-with-the

The Host fiddled with his hands nervously as he paced his room, twisting his wedding band on his finger. His hair hung in his face, strands sticking to his skin with blood and ink. His power was going rogue again, he could feel the outburst of magic, strange things happening wherever the rippling air passed. He paid no mind as his desk chair began floating a good foot off the ground, and one of the potted plants he kept grew a mouth and a tongue, snapping at the air.

On his bed lay a poem. He’d _tried_ , words didn’t come as easily to him these days, but he’d tried. Only a few stanzas long, it wasn’t the most eloquent thing he’d ever written, but…hopefully Dr. Iplier would like it. He’d worked hard after all. Dr. Iplier liked poems, right? The Host was sure of it.

There was a knock on his bedroom door, and the Host flinched _wildly_ , abruptly standing rigid and still, arms pressed tight to his sides as his head whipped to the door. He relaxed significantly when Eric entered, grinning broadly, ink and blood staining his teeth black and red. “Eric! Hello!” He tilted his head sharply. “Why are you in the Host’s room?”

Eric flinched and shrunk at the call of his name, but he closed the door, wringing his own hands obsessively, till his wrists cracked audibly. He didn’t stop. “Um, w-w-well, y-you’re kind of making the-the-the hallway…b-bleed?”

The Host laughed, he fucking _cackled_ , until blood was dripping heavily onto the floor, the heels of his hands were pressed hard into his bandages, and black was leaking between his fingers. “I don’t know what to _do!_ The Host loves Dr. Iplier, but – I can’t _write_ , the Host has never known how to write! Why did he even _try_ …”

He sobbed brokenly, shaking where he stood, nails digging into the flesh around his bandages. Eric’s eyes shot wide. “W-wait, Host – it’s okay! I’m sure you’re a _great_ writer!” 

In a way, Eric was just as broken as he was. The Actor hadn’t been kind to him. He’d been conditioned and beat into submission until his entire _world_ had been the Actor. When Dr. Iplier and Wilford had rescued them, Eric hadn’t even remembered who the other egos were. Just knew they were the Actor’s playthings that he took care of sometimes. The light in his eyes had gone out not too long after the Host’s sanity fled. He didn’t remember a Host before the broken man that bled before him.

Eric pulled the chair down from it’s floating position, and he patted the seat. “Sit down?” The Host obeyed, back to twisting his wedding band as Eric headed into the bathroom attached to the Host’s room. Even with his weight, the chair sill floated.

Eric came back with a brush and a comb, and stood behind the Host. His hair was bloody, and inky, and matted, and it wasn’t clear when the last time he’d washed it, but Eric didn’t seem to mind as he began to comb it, getting the knots and kinks out. Likewise, the Host didn’t seem to care about the pain in his scalp. And after a while, the Host’s relaxed a bit, shifting his shoulders like he’d grown a habit of doing.

“Wh-what did you write him?” 

Eric’s voice was soft, but the Host still flinched. Though a smile graced his lips. “A poem.” His smile fell, ink beginning to dribble from his mouth. He was back to twisting his ring. “Does Eric think that Dr. Iplier is gonna like it? I’ve worked on it very hard.”

Eric smiled, happily combing the Host’s hair. “I’m sure your mas– _he’s_ gonna love it.”

The Host hummed softly, distantly aware of the slip. No matter how hard the egos worked to counteract what the Actor had done to him, Eric had still yet to grasp that the _incredibly_ abusive, manipulative, _forced_ relationship was everything but loving and kind. It was his _only_ reference for a relationship, with his memory blown to Hell. 

The Host let Eric finish coming his hair, but he eventually grew restless, and fidgety. The second Eric was done, he bolted to his feet, fiddling with his coat. The grease that coated his hair almost acted like the gel he used to use to slick it back, and if one ignored how long it was, he…almost looked like the old Host. He smiled at Eric, holding his arms out a little. “How do I look?”

As he spoke, ink splattered onto his coat from where it dripped down his chin. The entire front was a very, _very_ bloody mess. It was smeared with ink, stained with things besides blood and ink, and general just _dirty_ – clearly having not been washed in a while as well. But Eric gave him the thumbs up, smiling right back. 

Eric was _so fond_ of the color red nowadays…

The Host grinned, ink foaming more heavily out of both sides of his mouth now. “The Host thanks Eric very much! Now I have to go find Dr. Iplier – he’s probably in the garden. He likes to garden – no, he likes to bake, kitchen maybe? No that’s not right either…maybe the library. _That’s_ right, _Dr. Iplier’s_ the one who writes, not the Host –”

He snatched the poem off the bed, and hurried out the door, mumbling fervently under his breath and steps squelching in the the blood-soaked carpet of the hallway.

**Author's Note:**

> The next one is the last soft one in this AU, I promise you that XD
> 
> Tumblr: doctordiscord123.tumblr.com


End file.
